I Remember
by blue-eyed-cow
Summary: Maximum Ride prequel. Follow the flock through their years and adventures at The School. How did they get their names? What happened the day Iggy became blind? What led Jeb to break them out of The School? Iggy's POV. Rated just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1: The Nudge Station

**A/N: Welcome to 'I Remember'! Before you start reading, I'd like to say a few things.**

** This is my first Maximum Ride fanfic, although I have written a few other fics on another topic. I am a **_**huge**_** fan of Maximum Ride, and have read all the books up to date. My absolute favorite character is Iggy. Personally, I think he doesn't get enough attention in the series. So I knew I wanted to write a story from his POV.**

** I also don't think there are enough prequels to The Angel Experiment. So, I also knew I wanted to write a prequel. So why not make it from Iggy's POV?**

** So that's what this story is. It is many scenarios from when Iggy was a child growing up in The School. The first chapter has a brief introduction and then goes into the story, which is when Max, Fang, and Iggy meet Nudge for the first time. I really hope you like it!**

** Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride. If I did, Iggy would get all the attention he really deserves. **

Chapter 1: The Nudge-Station

I remember. I remember it all. Colors, people, faces, places, things, light, _everything. _Sometimes people automatically assume that I envy those who still _can_ see, those who have not lost their sight. But that is not always the case. Yes, I wish I could still see, and yes, I do envy those people. But sometimes the people I envy most are the people who could _never_ see, and _never_ would. Why? Because they don't remember. And they never will remember. Sometimes it's best to have never experienced something you will always desire, for it just makes the desire ten times worse. When you never own the thing you desire most, you will never miss it if it is taken. You will not miss it, or long for it, or remember it. You will never remember. They will never remember. That's why I envy the people who were born blind. Because I _do_ remember.

What do I remember? The oldest memory I have was when I still had sight. I wish it had been a better memory, but unfortunately it wasn't. There weren't too many good memories back then, anyways.

* * *

I was four. Like all four-year-olds, I could walk, giggle, smile, smell, almost talk, and _see._ I had friends (_kind of)._ But unlike most four-year-olds, _I_ lived in a dog crate. _I_ was treated like crap by these insane scientists we later called whitecoats. _I _had crazy experiments done on me every single day, and so did all my friends. _I_ had never been outside, never played a game of any sort. _I _was genetically altered to be smart, strong, and apparently a good fighter. And, oh, yeah, _I_ had wings! Like I said, not your average four-year-old.

So, I was four. I lived in this horrible place called the School where these whack-jobs did all sorts of horrible things to kids. Living in a dog crate the first ten years of your life, you don't really get the opportunity to make many friends. You didn't have too many choices. So I became friends with two other kids, in the two cages next to mine. They were about my age. And they both had wings. Hey, guess we had a lot in common!

In the cage to my left was a girl. At this point, she was the only one with a name. We couldn't talk much at this age, but she did say one word quite often: Maximum. Max was easier, so she said that a lot, too. I later asked her how she came up with that, and she said a whitecoat had told her that was her name. I didn't bother asking any more questions. Anyways, the girl had dirty blond hair, freckles, cute brown eyes, and white and brown speckled wings. I like them. They weren't like mine; creamy-colored feathers with black tips, but they were still pretty. She seemed to do most of the talking, which wasn't much, but it was still the most. She also seemed to be the one who rebelled against the whitecoats most often, which always kept me going. In a way, she gave me hope.

The cage next to Max and furthest away from me held another boy. I couldn't see him too well because Max's cage was in the way, but I could still see him a little. I liked him, too. He was _dark._ His hair was dark, his eyes were dark, even his wings were dark. It was a nice contrast to our always-white surroundings. I had never heard him talk, and I had only seen him smile once: when Max was telling him her name for the millionth time. His smile made me smile, too.

We were all about four-years-old the day the next winged-one arrived. It had been a horribly hard day; I can remember that. These nasty things called Erasers, human lupine hybrids, took our cages to all these different rooms with different environments, people, or temperature to record the way our bodies reacted. Not fun.

Anyways, we were back in our cages, in the same dark room, filled with other caged experiments as well. Unfortunately, none of them were as successful as us, and many died right before our young eyes. Pretty traumatizing, right?

I was doing pretty much what I did everyday; sitting in my cage, listening to Max repeat her name sleepily, ignoring the searing pain in my body, and, well, _surviving. _It was then when some Erasers, flanked by whitecoats with clipboards, entered the room. They carried another small cage, like ours.

"Put it next to number 193," said a whitecoat vaguely. Like I said, we didn't have names; only numbers.

One of the Erasers carried the cage over next to me, and roughly placed it onto the ground. I guess I was number 193.

As quickly as they came, they all left. We all immediately turned to the new cage. We were used to having new "roommates", but even at age four we learned never to get too attached to them; they never lasted as long as we did. No other experiments had been like us. None have been as successful.

So we were surprised to find that the new caged resident was a fairly normal looking baby. She must have been about one; she had dark skin and a whole mess of black hair. She was sitting straight up in the cage, not looking the least bit scared. In fact, she looked more curious than scared.

The three of us exchanged glances. What was so special about her?

And then we noticed the brown feathers coming out of her back.

We were stunned. Even the dark boy gasped. There was another like us! We were no longer alone! Thoughts were already streaming through our heads; will she survive as long as we have? Will she have horrible experiments done on her, as well? Will there be more of us?

But our thoughts were interrupted, little did we know, by the first ever live broadcast of the Nudge Station: all Nudge, all the time. As soon as her mouth opened, we all wanted it to stop. Even if she couldn't really speak, she was making more sounds than I though possible for one child to make. And it went on and on and on and on. How could such a small kid have such a big mouth? I was pretty sure that in less than a minute that kid had just made more noise than we have ever made in our entire lives! (Minus screams, that is).

We waited for her to stop, to settle down, but she didn't. She continued to make noises, not really forming words, just making odd, babyish sounds.

Then Max got an idea. She leaned in as close as she could to see the newcomer, and said, in a somewhat steady voice, "Hi."

The baby smiled largely, probably happy someone else here could make a noise, and a strand of drool dribbled down her chin. Then, to my surprise, she copied Max. "H-hiiiii!" She squeaked. Then she was bouncing up and down. "Hi hi hi hi hi hi!"

I smiled. It made me happy to think that this kid was happy here. I knew it wouldn't last much longer, but it would be nice while it lasted.

Max tried again. "Ma-xi-mum!" She pronounced each syllable to her favorite word separately, like how she did when she was trying to get the other boy and I to say it. "Maximum!"

Once again, the small baby beamed. "Ma-Mamum! Mahimum!" She struggled with the words, but seemed proud of herself. "Mahimum Mahimum Mahimum! Hiiiii Mahimum!"

Maximum giggled, probably happy she got someone else to say it for once.

Max looked at me, then the other boy. "I like." She said happily, probably referring to the new girl. I smiled in return.

Max turned back to the baby. She pointed at herself. "Maximum. Me. I Maximum!"

The new winged kid looked confused for a second, then smiled. She raised a small arm and pointed it at herself, as Max did. "Mahimum! Me! Me me me me me! I me I Mahimum! Hiiii me Mahimum!" She giggled.

Max, on the other hand, didn't look too pleased. "No! I Maximum! You…" She trailed off, her face blank and her eyes wide. "You…" She looked defeated. She turned around to look at the both of us. "Who she? I Max. Who she? Who you?"

I frowned slightly as the dark boy looked thoughtful. We had never though about that. I never really desired a name, like Max, but they seemed a little necessary at this point…

The baby, not seeming to detect the trouble, continued to make noise, forming words that made no sense. "Mamum Mamum Hiii Mahimum! I me I me hiii! Heehee! Bleh Bleeh…" She giggled and continued with the nonsense words. "Bling Bleh Bloo! Nya na na! Niiiiaaaa! Na na na na! Nuhhhhh! Nud nud nud nud nya! Nudgeeeeh! Nudgeeeeee!" And suddenly her eyes lit up, as if she had just found her soul mate. "Nudge Nudge Nudge Nudge NUDGE!" She sang cheerfully. She continued her little parade of "Nudge", until Max had enough.

"QUIET, NUDGE!" She yelled at the child. Then she froze. She turned to look at the other boy, then me. Then she smiled. Again she turned towards the baby. She pointed at herself. "I Maximum." Then, before the child could say anything, Max's finger switched direction and pointed through my cage bars and to the baby. "You Nudge. That you. That you name." And she sat up a little straighter, looking proud of herself.

Nudge's eyes widened. Then she threw her hands up into the air and yelled "HOORAY!" And we all laughed.

Now Max turned to the dark boy. He looked happier than I had ever seen him; a real smile planted across his face, as Max said, "Now you. Nudge," she turned to her, and then pointed at the boy. "Who he?"

As if she knew what we were talking about, she sat up straighter and peered at the cage farthest away from her. After a few seconds she got bored and plopped back down onto the cage floor; small, fragile-looking wings spread wide. She began to talk nonsense again. "Fi fong fu! Fa fa fa fa! Fab! Fan! Fah! Fah Fah Fah-"

"Fang."

All heads suddenly whipped around to face the dark boy. Even Nudge stopped talking. The voice was one I had never heard before, but there was no doubt as to where it came from. For the first time ever, the dark boy had spoken.

Getting over the shock, Max repeated what he had said. "Fang? You Fang? Why?"

The boy, Fang, shrugged. "It… feels right…" And he stopped talking, seemingly satisfied with his new label.

So Max pointed at him and told Nudge he was "Fang." Nudge apparently accepted the name, because she suddenly broke into a chorus composed only of one word, and I think you can guess which word that was.

And that only left me. I was wriggling with excitement; something I had never done before. A name! I was going to have a name! It was going to be the fourth name in the list of Max, Nudge, and Fang. Man, I hoped it sounded good with those ones…

Max turned to Nudge. "Nudge? One more." She smiled, then pointed to me: the scrawny blond boy in the cage separating her cage and Max's. "Who he?"

The small baby looked up into my eyes. Her dark chocolate brown ones met my pale blue ones, and she smiled that goofy smile, drool continuing to run down her chin. Probably figuring she should do the same as she did with Fang, she stopped looking at me and her eyes began darting around the room, as the Nudge Station was again turned on. "Ag ag ag ag! Ug ug ug ug ug! Ig ig ig ig ig!" And her smile widened again. "Ig Ig Ig Ig Ig…" her 'igs' were getting faster and faster, speeding up in tempo as she began to bounce up and down again.

I don't know if you've ever tried this, but if you haven't, (and if you're alone in the room), try it right now. Try saying 'ig' really fast, about a million times. Say it as fast as you can. What's it sound like to you?

I knew what I wanted my name to be. "I'm Iggy. That me." My voice sounded hoarse, yet confident. Nudge stopped her chant and looked at me, curiosity spreading it's way across her brown face. And before Max could say anything, Nudge lifted an unsteady hand, pointed it at me, and said, "Iggy!"

Pride welded up in my chest as it would in a father's. She had accepted and learned my new name before Max had even told her. Wow… my _name!_ What a great feeling, to have a name…

But of course, something just _had_ to ruin this perfect moment, right? Something always had to ruin it.

So, frankly, I wasn't too surprised when, at that exact moment, the same group of Erasers and whitecoats from earlier re-entered the room. Immediately Nudge stopped her chatter, as if she could sense something bad was about to happen.

And bad it was. An Eraser, fully transformed and terrifying, strode over to Nudge's small cage and picked it up by the handle on top. None too gently, he threw the cage into a small rolling cart, which was being pulled by another Eraser. I heard Nudge scream.

That's when I snapped, I think for the first time. I should be used to this kind of stuff by now, but seeing this baby, innocent and fun, being thrown around like that really made me mad. She had given me a name, and made even Fang smile and talk. If you were me, would you just sit back and watch those death-machines take away your new cage neighbor from you?

Yeah, well that's you.

So, before Max had time to yell something like she usually does, I yelled first. "Stop!" I projected my shaking voice best I could at the men. Looking surprised, they turned to face the four-year-old in the dog crate. I tried my best to look scary, spreading my small wings out around me and putting on a snarl. "I. Said. Stop. Give her back."

One Eraser, snickering slightly, slowly made his way over to my cage. For once, the whitecoats didn't even try to stop him. As I watched, he slipped open the cage door, reached in, and…

I didn't even think. I just did it. I lashed out, grabbed hold of the hairy arm with my teeth, and latched on. The Eraser howled as I bit down tighter. He swung his thick arm against the wall of the cage, making me hit my head on the bars, hard. I felt my jaw loosen as the arm slipped from my grasp. And I sat there against the back wall, eyes wide. The Eraser, growling slightly, raised his arm again and clawed me across the face, under my right eye. I yelped in pain as the Eraser swung the door shut, mumbling, and the team of jerks marched away. With Nudge.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. I was panting slightly, and felt warm blood running down my face from where the claws had scratched me. It hurt, but I had put up with worse.

"Iggy?"

I jumped, still not being used to my new name, and turned to see Max. She looked worried, the way she usually does when one of us are damaged after an experiment. She smiled reassuringly, as if she could see right through me. "She be ok."

I think then I fell asleep, because I don't remember what happened next. What I do remember is waking up to the door sliding open again, and heavy footsteps. Not wanting to open my eyes, I heard someone set something down next to my cage. I didn't open my eyes until the door had slid shut again. By then, all of us were awake.

Nudge was lying in the cage next to mine once again. Only this time, she wasn't happy, talking, giggling, or drooling. Instead, she was breathing heavily, eyes closed. Bruises covered her round face, and she was shaking slightly.

I swallowed my anger and focused my attention on Nudge, who was now stirring. In a few seconds her eyes flew open. Then they immediately began to water. She sniffled a few times, opened her mouth, and cried. Her sobs echoed through the large room, as ours have done so many times. I felt sorry for her. I really did.

"Nudge."

The baby looked up, still crying, and saw me. As if she remembered us all of the sudden, she said, in a small weak voice. "H-hiiii Ig Ig." Then she went back to crying.

But I still wanted to cheer her up. So I reached my small, pale arm through the bars of my cage. If I pressed my body hard enough to the bars, I could almost touch Nudge's cage.

"Nudge."

She looked up once again, big brown eyes watering, and saw my hand. Then, with some struggle, she pushed her self up and shuffled over to the bars. For a second she just stared at my outstretched hand, then, seeming to know what to do, she pressed tiny body against the bars as well. She stuck her small dark arm, now bruised, through the bars. I stretched just a little further, and then I took her small, chubby hand in my long, slender one.

"It ok, Nudge."

And again, that adorable little smile spread over her face. "Iggy." And she broke into a fit of giggles.

And we were no longer Max, the dark boy, and I. We were Max, Fang, Iggy, and Nudge.

And I wanted it to stay that way forever.

**A/N: Ta da! Like it? Hate it? Please review and tell me what you think!**

** The next chapter will probably be when the flock meets Gazzy. Then I want to do one on Angel, then one on Iggy's blindness, (because, as I hope you realized when reading this, Iggy can still see when this is taking place.) And then, eventually, when they escape with Jeb.**

** I'm sorry, I must sound really stupid asking this, but I can't quite remember the answer: do Gazzy and Angel come to the school at the same time? Could anyone clear that up for me? Also, does it ever actually mention how old Iggy was when he became blind? I didn't think it did, but I just want to make sure. Thanks so much!**

** I won't update if you don't review! So please do! They make me the happiest person in the world! **

** Thanks for reading!**

** ~blue-eyed-cow**


	2. Chapter 2: What's that smell?

**A/N: Welcome to chapter 2! I'm sorry it took me a while to update this. But I promise the updating will be SO much faster now because I have everything planned out. I'm planning on 11 chapters then possibly an epilogue, but that's up to change. There might be more, might be less. I don't know yet.**

**Thank you to the 12 people who reviewed! I love reviews :3**

**So here's chapter 2! I like this one: it's funny. It's slightly shorter than the last one, too.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride or any of its characters.**

**Oh! And I want to thank **_**maximumFANGirl **_**for helping me so much with this story. She's done so much for me. I'll probably be thanking her in every chapter :D**

**On to the story!**

Chapter 2: What's that smell?

Some time had passed since the arrival of Nudge, and things had gotten back to normal. That is, if you call normal being kept in dog crates, having needled stuck into you everyday, being drugged and pushed to your physical limit whenever those evil scientists got the chance, and having freaking _wings._

Ok, so maybe not normal for you, but pretty normal for us. Life at The School went on. Day after day of horrible experiments, courtesy of the whitecoats, continued. The hurting, being sick and exhausted, vomiting, and all that other fun stuff continued without hesitation. Some days it was worse than usual, and some days it felt like a routine: draw blood, inject something into us to see how we react, if we're still conscious by then make us do a couple of laps, throw us into a maze and make us find the way out, and that's usually how it went.

So, since everyday seemed virtually the same, the next major event happened when Max, Fang, and I were about 7, and Nudge was 4. At this age speaking was getting easier, and so was fighting back against the White-Coats. It almost felt like natural instinct. By now we knew we were a lot stronger than they were, when we had our full energy, that is. I have to say, seeing that look on a White-Coat's face as you sink your teeth into their arm, or say something rude and sarcastic, or spread your wings wide and give them the scariest face you can muster, is pretty satisfying.

Unfortunately, the Erasers were still stronger than us, and they had guns. Which meant they were usually the ones who dealt with us outside of experiments. Which made life difficult, considered these ugly things were literally _made_ to kill mutants like us. So we usually didn't try anything around them.

The next important event in my horrible life happened like this.

Just like the day Nudge had arrived, this day hadn't been very pleasant. Today they had made us swallow radioactive dye so they could study how our circulation systems reacted. I must have gotten sick, like, eight times. But, of course, the whitecoats didn't care.

So we were in our cages, all shivering slightly, trying to regain our sanity. The cages were in the same order as they always had been: Fang, Maximum, me, and then Nudge. Of course, there were other mutants in cages, too. But they never lasted. And none of them had wings like we did.

"It feels bad. Yucky. Eww. I don't like this, Iggy, no no no no-"

I wasn't really paying attention to Nudge's rant. She did that a lot. She could speak way better than we could at that age, and almost as good as we could speak at age 7.

I was sleepy. I could feel my eyelids slowly drooping close. A nap wouldn't hurt. A nap would be good, at least until the next experiment…

But the opening of a door interrupted my dose. Three whitecoats, accompanied by three armed Erasers, had entered the room of mutants. We instantly noticed that two of the Erasers were carrying a small dog crate, just like ours. Of course we ignored it. Back then, this was common: new experiments would be brought in all the time.

"Put it down over there," a White-Coat said, pointing a thin finger over to Fang's cage, "next to that one."

The Erasers grumbled in reply, and brought the crate over to Fang's. Then they set it down next to his, and that was that. Before Max could yell anything rude at them like she usually does, they had left, mumbling things like, "the first tests on it will commence in about an hour," or, "I wonder how this one's brain works. Man would I love to take these things apart."

Trying my best to ignore the creepy comment, I tried to see the newcomer. Max and Fang's cages were in the way, but if I positioned myself just right…

And there it was. I could see a small baby, probably one year of age, lying down on the floor of the cage. Even from here, I could tell that the kid was slightly chubby, had bright blue eyes, and a small amount of blond, fluffy hair on top of his head. And then I saw them: a pair of small, white, chicken-like wings coming out of the child's back.

Fang, Max, and I exchanged excited glances. Another one! Another one like us! I _knew_ Nudge wouldn't be the last one!

Nudge was trying desperately to make herself taller. "Can't see! What is it? Faaaaang what is it?"

I saw a smile form on Fang's lips. "A new baby. With wings like us." His voice was quiet, as usual, but even he couldn't hide the excitement in his voice, and I'm sure if I could see his eye under all that dark hair, they would show excitement, too. We were all like siblings here, and having a new member of a family can be exciting. Even if you know the member of this family is in for the worst possible life a kid can get.

Nudge gasped and then burst out into a fit of excited giggles. She began to sing, "Neeeeew baby! Neeeeew baby! Just! Like! Us!"

I was laughing, too. Even the new kid, who I was pretty sure was male, had a goofy smile on his face. He was waving his arms about and wiggling all around, but at least he wasn't talking. The last thing we needed was another motor-mouth like Nudge.

The laughter was a great contrast to all the cries of pain, moaning and gurgling that made up the rest of the noises in the room.

Now we were all watching the kid. Max had leaned as close as she could get and said, "Hi! I'm Maximum! This is Fang, Iggy, and Nudge." She pointed to each of us with the mention of our names.

The kid just smiled at her in response. Ok, so he wasn't a talker. Fine by me. I could tell I was going to like him…

But I almost instantly changed my mind because of what happened next.

Fang was the first to notice. He coughed, and cupped his hands over his nose. We looked at him, confused. We were used to foul-smelling things by now, so what-

Max yelled, "Eww!", wrinkled up her face and, like Fang, cupped her hands over her mouth and nose.

By then I was seriously confused. Was this some kind of test? Were the White-Coats gassing the room? Did they have a camera set up somewhere to record the results?

Then the smell reached me. Let me tell you, I have smelled horrible smells in my life. The stench of burning flesh, rotting bodies, toxic chemicals, and things too gruesome to even mention here. But _this?_ This was disgusting! Like nothing I had ever smelled before! I chocked out a cough before pinching my nose and sticking out my tongue in disgust. Next to me, I heard Nudge yell, "GROSS!"

Someone giggled. My head spun around to see the newest winged-one, giggling. He was sitting up, laughing as if he had just pulled some sick prank on all of us.

Wait a second…

"W-was that _him!_" Max choked out.

As if in response, a low noise grumbled from the blond baby, and another wave of stench filled the air.

"Gas... Mask!" I chocked, pretending to fall over in my cage.

"Yuck yuck yuck yuck YUCK!" Nudge complained.

After about a minute, all of the stench had gone away, leaving us panting for breath and the new kid still laughing. We glared at him.

"Yeah, I think it was him." I grumbled.

"I glad _my_ cage not next to his!" Nudge crossed her ark arms over her small chest.

Fang scowled.

I laughed.

Max looked thoughtful. Then she perked up. "Ok, as leader-"

"Since when are you leader?" I interrupted.

She ignored me. "As leader I think I know a good name for him."

"Isn't Nudge in charge of names?"

"Shut _up,_ Iggy. I think we should name him…" pause for dramatic effect, "The Gasman! Because, as far as I know, he's a guy, and he's super gassy!"

"Then why not Super Gassy? The Gasman is too long. We need a nickname. I bet Nudge could do better…" I grumbled.

Max fumed.

"I like." Nudge said, smiling goofily. "I like The Gasman. But he need something short, too." She looked thoughtful. She had come up with most of our names as a kid, so I'm sure she could think of something. "Gassy? No, wait…" Her eyed lit up. "How 'bout Gazzy! It cute! We could call him The Gasman a lot, but sometimes Gazzy! You like? Good idea?"

To keep her from rambling on any longer, I nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Max and Fang nodded simultaneously. Attempting to get a good view of The Gasman's cage, Max turned to the baby and said. "You're name is The Gasman! Or Gazzy. That's you!" She pointed to him.

He giggled, and, as if to tell us that he loved his new name, let another one rip. We were coughing for the next five minutes.

And in those few minutes I had gained another brother; another addition to the family. We were growing bigger, and when I thought that I couldn't help but smile. There were five of us now. That seemed like more than I thought there would ever be. That seemed like more successful recombinants than I ever thought possible for these dumb scientists to make. And even though this kid wasn't in for a great life, I was happy he was here, even if he stinks. I hoped with all my heart more of us would come.

I wanted our family to grow big. I wanted our flock to fly away from here and never look back. I wanted everyone of us to be happy forever.

Unfortunately I'd have to wait a little while for that to happen.

Then…

Around the same time Gazzy showed up, something else was happening. We all noticed it, even though we never really talked about it amongst ourselves. Even Nudge kept quiet on the subject. Why? Because we were confused, and suspicious, and, although no one would admit it, scared.

What were we scared of? Let me tell you.

By age 7, Max, Fang, and I had met a lot of people; a lot of whitecoats. Most of them all looked the same: way-too-serious faces, glasses, white lab coats. Although we could easily beat them, they were non-the-less scary, seeming to tower up to the sky with their mere presence.

But there was one whitecoat who was different. He looked like all the others: tall, brown eyes, sandy hair, glasses, and a mustache. He was pretty average looking. But defiantly not average acting. Like I said, he was different.

The difference wasn't major. There was subtle things he did, small things that made the difference. He was slightly kinder than any of the other White-Coats. He would give us extra food in between experiments. Sometimes he would come into our room to talk to us, make sure we were ok. He wouldn't call us by 'it', or 'that', but instead say 'he', 'him', 'she', and 'her', like we were actual people. He would never hit us, or mistreat us in any way.

At first we didn't really notice, but over the years the fact that there might actually be a nice whitecoat was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Max even told us one night that he looked like the man who gave her the name Maximum. Maximum Ride. When we asked her for more details, though, she said she didn't remember. She had only been 3 when he had named her.

So by age 7, we knew what the man looked like, and we all knew that when we saw him, we could relax. We knew nothing bad would happen.

So why were we scared? Why were we suspicious and confused?

Because we had never met an adult who didn't want to hurt us. Who didn't want to take apart our brains to see how they worked. Who actually cared for us. We didn't know what it should feel like. So, without even needing to discuss it, we had decided we couldn't trust this man, no matter what he did.

Why?

Because we were the flock, and we trusted no one but each other.

** A/N: Ta da! Love it? Hate it? Please review and tell me what you think! Like I said before, reviews make me the happiest cow on earth XD**

** The next chapter is called ****My first chocolate bar.**** I know it sounds weird, but I think you'll like it; trust me. I promise I'll update soon if you promise to review! **

** Thanks for reading!**

** ~blue-eyed-cow**


	3. Chapter 3: My first chocolate bar

**A/N: Here's Chapter three! This chapter was actually a lot easier to write than I thought it would be. I thought it would be short, hard to write, and a little boring, but it's actually just as long as the others!**

** So I thought it actually came out pretty good, and I'm not usually the self-confident type of person! There were only two things that I wasn't too happy about the outcome. The first was the fight scene in this chapter. I've never been good at those, so please don't blame me if it's not too good. I'll try to get better at those. The other thing I'm not too happy about is… well, Jeb. His attitude is just so difficult for me to write about! And I don't know why! Grr! So if anyone has any tips about how to get Jeb right, I would love to hear them!**

** Thanks so much to the 7 people who reviewed! I'm so happy people like my story so far! I honestly thought it wouldn't be very popular when I posted it, so it makes me very happy to know you guys actually like it!**

** Once again, many thanks to **_**maximumFANGirl**_**, who has helped me so much with this story. Actually, she's the one who gave me the idea for this chapter. So, thanks so much! =)**

** Onto the story! (Sorry for the long Author's Note!)**

** Disclaimer: I have never and will never own Maximum Ride. If I did, the next book in the series would be called ****Iggy****, not ****Angel****. Sorry, Angel, but Iggy deserves it more than you do!**

Life went on. Nudge still wouldn't shut up, Max's leadership skills continued to shine through, Fang stayed quiet, and baby Gazzy was as stinky as ever. And me? Same as always. I wasn't as strong as Max or Fang, but I was still pretty high up on the 'Mutant Totem Pole'. Nudge looked up to me, like as a role model, or something. That might have just been because our cages were still next to each other. I don't know. I also quickly befriended The Gasman. Even though our dog-crates were far apart, we could still interact. I laughed whenever he poisoned Fang's cage, which was next to The Gasman's, with his 'signature scent'. He made annoying noises whenever Max was trying to give an 'inspirational speech', which I remember doing a lot before I really knew any other way to interrupt her. So, even though The Gasman and I were a good 6 years apart, we had a lot in common.

Life stayed terrible. Those whitecoats didn't seem to get any nicer. We didn't really expect them to, anyways. And the Erasers just seemed to get stronger. They also seemed to hate us little mutants more and more, which totally sucked for us. Trust me, you don't want to be on an Eraser's bad side. Actually, I was pretty sure they didn't even have a good side at all. Oh, well.

Those horrible tests, experiments, and trials were getting more and more difficult. That could be because we were getting older, so they wanted the tests to be harder. Or that might be because we were getting weaker and weaker. Apparently we needed a lot more food than the normal human beings. Even if we hadn't really flown our entire life, unless it involved a test, we still needed a lot of calories. As you can imagine, the whitecoats didn't really give us any gourmet food. So we were pretty much always hungry. Woopty-do.

Anyways, enough complaining. Complaining never got us out of any sticky situations.

But the next memory wasn't something to complain about. In fact, it was probably one of the best days of my young life. Of course, _your _best day of _your_ young life was probably something like 'meeting the love of my life' or 'my 5th birthday when I got a puppy, a plasma TV, and a new tricycle', or maybe, 'the day I became the youngest millionaire in history'. Yeah, well, that's _your_ life. In _my_ life, good days included things like 'Wow! Those Erasers only broke _one_ of my legs today! Woo hoo!' or 'Wow, I got _fed_ today! Those whitecoats sure are nice!', and so on. Yeah, you get the point.

Ok, so maybe it wasn't a great day by your standards, but by mine, it was awesome.

I was probably around the age of 8, along with Max and Fang. Nudge was probably 5, and Gazzy was barely 2. We were all teaching The Gasman how to talk. He was a slow learner, but we figured we had to start somewhere.

At first this day had totally sucked. Today they had put Max, Fang, and I into a large, white room. It was completely empty. Far up on one wall was a large, glass box, where multiple whitecoats were standing in, taking notes from behind the glass wall. The microphone was on, so we all heard them mumble things like, "…to see if they have improved", and "…no holding back." I had gulped. That didn't sound good, but I was too busy worrying about Nudge and The Gasman to think about myself.

We all noticed who one of the whitecoats in the glass room was. It was_ that_ one: the one who had always been nice to us. Unlike the others whitecoats, he wasn't chattering excitedly, or writing notes on a clipboard. He was just staring at us, a sad expression planted on his face; an expression I would later classify as worry.

In a few minutes they had released ten Erasers into the room, all fully morphed and snarling. I remember the whitecoats voices over the microphone saying, "Eliminate all of them. Do not hold back." And the terrifying thing was I didn't know if they were talking to the Erasers, or us.

We fought. We fought hard. We easily took out about six of them, breaking noses, popping eardrums, kicking them hard, breaking ribs. We were made to fight. We were made to be invincible. We fought and fought. By the time there were only four standing, we were all panting heavily and bleeding in multiple places.

It didn't go well from there. One of them grabbed Max's arm and twisted. A snap exploded into the air like a gunshot, and Max yelled out in pain. Fang was angry. He went all out. And as a reward, he was sporting huge claw marks under his left eye. They kicked him hard in the head. Something snapped, and I saw blood trickle out from the side of him mouth as he fell.

By that time there had been two left. Both of them charged at me.

I put on my scariest face and leapt into the air. I came down hard, my foot colliding with the face of one Eraser. My feet were bare, and it hurt. But knowing the Eraser was probably hurt more made it feel better, as I heard him let out a howl.

I spun around to face the other one, but it wasn't there. Confused, I was about to turn around again to scan the room, when something collided with the back of my head. _Hard._ Stars flickered into my vision, and everything went black.

And I don't remember anything else. I don't even know what happened. But I had woken up in my cage. My head was aching silently, and there was a huge gash on my side. We all heal unusually fast, it's part of the whole 'mutant kids with wings' package, so I wasn't too worried.

I shook my shoulders, and my wings ruffled open. I couldn't open the nine-foot wingspan all the way because of the tiny cage, but I could ruffle them open just enough to see them. I loved looking at my wings. It always made me feel better. Creamy-colored feathers with the black tips. I smiled. I always had dreams about flying, flying far away with my friends. I wanted to fly away from this horrible place and never, ever look back.

But I knew the likeliness of that ever happening was a dead zero.

"Iggy! Iggy's awake! Guys! Guys! Iggy woke up!"

Nudge looked as though she had just woken up from a nap as she sat up, beaming. She looked ok, besides the multiple bandages from where White-Coats had prodded her with about fifty different needles the day before. So the next time you start breaking down crying because you find out you had to get one shot at your next doctors appointment, think about what we went through every day. I'm sure your parents would appreciate less tears.

I turned to the cage on my other side. Max was smiling at me. Her blond hair was messy, and her brown eyes were dim. Immediately my eyes fell down to her arm. It was bruised and swollen. "Broken?"

She nodded sadly. I sighed.

"Are you feeling better? You were out cold for a while." Max asked quietly.

I rolled my eyes. "Yup, I'm just peachy."

She scowled. My face broke into a smile, and Max couldn't help but smile, too. I guess by now she was used to those kinds of remarks.

"Fang? Are you ok?" I leaned over so I could see into the cage next to Max's.

The dark boy was curled up, hugging his knees into his chest. His long black hair hung stiffly over his face. "Yeah." I heard him whisper.

Even though I didn't want my brother (Max had told us we were all siblings here. I thought it was a stupid idea at first, but I guess it's growing on me), in pain, I knew he would heal soon. We all did. Pain wasn't a stranger to us.

"Iddy!" I heard The Gasman chime from the cage next to Fang's. I looked past the bars of Fang's cage to see the chubby, blond, two-year-old waving at me enthusiastically. "Hi! Wel'm bak!"

I laughed, making my throat ache from the lack of water. We had been teaching The Gasman to say 'Welcome Back!' whenever anyone was unconscious or sleeping and just woke up. Kind of like a funny thing to wake up to. I don't know; it keeps us laughing. We could always use more laughs.

I was just thinking how that nice whitecoat better come in here and feed me or I'm going to pass out again, when, as if on cue, the door to the containment room slid open. In came the sandy-haired whitec`oat we had gotten so used to seeing in here. He adjusted his glasses quickly as he snuck his way over to our row of cages.

I saw Max immediately put on a snarl. Her eyes had fire in them, and she rolled out her white and brown wings menacingly. To be completely honest, it didn't look too scary. But I guess she gets bonus points for pulling it off with a broken arm. Fang tried his best to sit up, but it looked like he was still hurting. I just watched curiously. Sometimes the man came in to talk to us and examine our wounds. Other times he brought water. I hoped it was the second option. I was parched, and my headache would not respond well to chatter.

He stopped in front of our cages, a small smile spread across his face. His mustache reminded me of some sort of big, fuzzy, crawling insect I had once seen in our room.

He kneeled in front of Max's cage, which was in the middle of the whole row.

"How're you guys doing?" He asked in a concerned whisper.

I tried not to groan. Great, talking!

"Oh, we're all doing great!" Max put on a very fake smile, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I knew she really didn't hate this man, but we couldn't afford to trust him. "Right, guys? How do we feel?"

Nudge, who wasn't catching onto the whole 'sarcasm' thing, said in a whiney voice, "I'm hungry and tired and really, really thirsty! And Max, Fang, and Iggy are hurt! You better fix them, you-"

He cut her off. "Yes, yes I have water for you all. But, first, I need to talk to you."

We all glared at him suspiciously, but he took our silence as a cue to talk. "You're probably wondering why I've been treating you all differently…"

"Yeah, we're _wondering_ about a lot of stuff, actually." Max replied, putting emphasis into every word. "Like, 'why do you enjoy torturing kids?', and 'Does our pain provide you with entertainment', or even-"

Once again, the man cut her off. Big no-no. Max didn't like to be interrupted, so that was strike two. "Listen to me, Maximum." We all shuddered at the tone of his voice. It was firm, yet somehow soft. And yes, I know that doesn't make sense. Sue me.

He continued. "You all know that I am not like the other people here. I'm not one of them. You all know that." His voice was a mere whisper. "But that's our little secret, right?" He continued before any of us had a chance to speak up. "I'm here to help you. That's the reason I'm here. To help you six-"

"There are only five of us! Unless Max taught me how to count wrong, I know there's five!" Nudge piped up, spilling out words as fast as she could.

The man shook his head at his mistake. "Yes, yes of course you wouldn't know…"

"Wouldn't know what?" Nudge tilted her head, confused.

"That's not important. What is important right now is that you all hear what I need to say. My name is Jeb Batchelder. I can't tell you much else right now, but I can say that I'm on your side. I want to help you. To _save_ you. Can you understand? Can you trust me?"

We were al silent for a while. My head was throbbing painfully. I was so confused. This man, Jeb or whatever, said he wanted to save us. But, wasn't he one of them? No, wait, he said the reason he was one of them was to help us, right? He said he wasn't really a whitecoat. But, was he lying? Was this just another test? Could this whole 'nice act' be a fake? Jeb asked if we could trust him, but-

"How can you possibly expect us to trust you?" I realized with a jolt that that was me speaking. My voice quivered slightly.

Jeb turned to me, surprised. This whole time he had only been focusing on Max. "Yes, yes of course. I don't expect you to trust me right away. Of course you don't. I completely understand…"

He bent down to Max's cage. "Maximum, may I see your arm?"

She frowned at the use of her full name. "Why?"

"I can make it feel better. It will only hurt a little, I promise." His voice sounded sincere and fatherly. Like he actually cared.

Ha.

Reluctantly, she reached her thin arm through the bars of her cage. Jeb took it in his two hands gently, and quietly got to work.

In a few minutes he had helped Max's broken arm, stopped the bleeding on the huge scratch under Fang's eye, and patched up my side. We were quiet as he worked, all lost in thought. Could we really trust him?

"Here." Jeb said quietly as he handed us each a small mug of water. We all instantly drained the cups, The Gasman spilling most of it down his chin.

"I don't have too much time." He continued hastily, glancing around. "I'm not supposed to be here. But… I have one more thing to give you."

We all watched as he slowly took something out from underneath his long, white jacket. It was a small brown bar, wrapped in plastic. White letters spelled out something I couldn't read (the whitecoat's main priority wasn't teaching us how to read, if you can believe it), ran across the wrapping. I narrowed my eyes. Was it a trap?

Jeb unwrapped the brown bar. Then he slowly broke it into five small, equal pieces. "Here. Try it; I think you'll like it. I managed to sneak it in today." He said quickly as he gave us each a small piece of the brown bar. "It's called chocolate."

We all stared at it, making sure it wouldn't explode or anything.

"I promise, it won't explode or anything."

Man, this guy is good.

Gazzy was the first one to eat it. He stuck it in his mouth and, after a while, swallowed. A huge smile lit up his face as he waved his arms and legs about and giggled.

Nudge couldn't wait any longer. She also shoved the 'chocolate' into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide and a smile grew across her face. With her mouth still full of the gooey brown stuff, she said. "Oh, my god! Guys, you have got to try it! It's amazing! The best thing I've ever tasted! Well, I guess I haven't tasted too many things, but… mmmmm! Try it! Eat it!" The five-year-old was wriggling with excitement as she swallowed it.

Well, knowing that if it _was_ poison, I wasn't going to be the first one to die was somewhat reassuring. So I slowly put it into my mouth. I saw Max and Fang do the same. I didn't see what the big deal was until the taste suddenly exploded. The chocolate was melting, leaving a warm, tasty, sweet feeling in my mouth. I laughed, mouth still full. It was the most amazing taste, ever!

Max's eyes had widened as she let out a surprised squeak of delight. Even Mr. Quiet was smiling.

I swallowed the last of it, savoring the taste in my mouth. It was so good!

Jeb smiled, reading our expressions. "I'm glad you all like it. I'll try my best to get more of them in the future. Like I said, I'm on your side. I promise." And then he gave us the most amazing smile I had ever seen. It was a warm, fatherly, loving smile. It was a smile that warms up the heart and makes everyone else around you smile, too. It was a smile that showed someone cared. Actually cared.

That day, we all took one step further to trusting Jeb Batchelder. Maybe we didn't completely trust him yet, but it was still the most we had ever trusted anyone besides each other.

We didn't know it then, but it was one step further to freedom.

**A/N: And that's all, folks! **

**I'm trying not to make them trust Jeb too much at this point. They actually don't fully trust him until they escape with him. Or, at least, I'm hoping it will turn out that way.**

**Like I said, I'm having major issues with Jeb. Have any advice? Please let me know!**

**Did you like it? Or hate it? Have any suggestions, comments, or questions? Please review! My goal is 25 reviews, which I think we can easily get, right? Right? Oh, god, someone please say right!**

**The next chapter is called ****A baby Angel****. I think we can all guess what that's about!**

**Oh, and in case any of you were wondering, Ari doesn't come in until chapter 6. Sorry! He will be mentioned my Jeb in some chapter before that, though. **

**Please review!**

**Thanks so much!**

**~blue-eyed-cow**


	4. Chapter 4: A baby Angel

**A/N: Well, dear readers, I have returned from planet procrastination and returned to Earth! You all must have missed me dearly!**

** But, seriously, I'm sorry for the late update. Just remember: authors are people too, and everyone has their family vacations/emergencies (luckily not at the same time) sometimes. So cut me some slack, please!**

** Anyways, here's chapter four! This is the longest chapter yet. I was so happy with the way it came out, and I hope you all are, too. It's my favorite chapter so far.**

** So here is chapter four!**

** And thanks again to **_**maximumFANGirl **_**for helping me so much. Actually, if she doesn't mind, it'd be great if she PMed me after she read this. I have some more questions, and I'm too lazy to PM her myself. Haha!**

** Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it.**

Chapter 4: A baby Angel

The next major event of my young, messed up childhood occurred at the beginning of one of the most eventful years of my life. The dark room my family and I had grown up in was cold and darker than ever before. We shivered at night, using our wings as blankets to wrap around ourselves, and trying to keep a three-year-old Gazzy from getting sick. Teeth clattered, hands shook, and darkness penetrated our sight. I didn't like not being able to see anything most of the time. It was a major disadvantage.

A little over a year had passed since Jeb Batchelder had given us those chocolate bars. He still came to visit often. It would normally be after one of the more painful days. He would sneak in, being sure to lock the door and shut off all security cameras, talk to us, and give us water and occasionally food. When he came to talk to us, he would normally just crouch down in front of Max's cage and ask us all how we were doing, although it often looked as though he was only talking to her. We didn't talk back too much, still not trusting him fully, but I had to admit: it was nice having someone other than the rest of us to talk to.

We reluctantly told him our names. He seemed overjoyed that we had been smart enough to come up with those ourselves, (other than Max's, of course). I wanted to say most of us had gotten them from a very noisy 1-year-old, but I figured he wouldn't understand.

It slowly became easier and easier to talk to him, and I bet the same went for him. He told us that one day he would help us escape, but didn't say much more on the subject. He told us all about the School, even though we didn't understand most of what he was saying. He warned us about upcoming experiments, and gave us advice on how to deal with them. One day he even told us a little more about himself. He told us he had a two-year-old son named Ari. He kept going on and on about how he started walking and talking, and what he looked like, and all this other stuff I didn't really care about. Jeb told us he hoped that one day he could bring Ari here to show us. Although he seemed a lot more excited than we did, we told him we would all enjoy that. That only boosted his happiness up by about 500%. Man, this guy was easy to please.

The events leading up to the arrival of another winged mutant were not pleasant. As I said before, the days were getting colder and colder, and the whitecoats only seemed to care less and less. The things they made us do were brutal and unfair, as always. They hardly fed us anything and treated us like Guiney pigs. Which, I guess in a way, we were.

The start of the event kicked off on one of the coldest days I could remember. The five of us: The Gasman, Fang, Max, me, and Nudge, were all shivering away silently in our dog crates that we were oh so appreciative of. Well, I guess we weren't really silent. At least, some of us weren't.

"I c-c-can't feel m-my toes! Why is it s-s-so c-cold in here? Is it th-that expensive to get, l-like, heating in this stupid r-room? S-s-seriously!" a six-year-old Nudge complained, teeth clattering.

Three-year-old Gazzy was shivering violently, murmuring things about it being dark and scary. His vocabulary wasn't great yet, but he was getting somewhere. I hoped he was ok. The last thing we needed was for him to get hypothermia or something like that. I hoped Jeb would come in to give us some blankets or warm drinks, but I knew it was morning, and he never comes to visit in the morning. Only at night when security is lowest. I extended my wings as much as I could in the small space and wrapped them around me, but it didn't do much.

"I-it's ok, guys!" Max started, hugging herself. Her brown and white speckled wings were also out and wrapped protectively around her. I groaned. I was _not_ in the mood for a pep talk right now. "I know it's d-dark and cold, but-"

"Really, really c-cold." Nudge added pointlessly.

"Y-yes, really really cold, but we just have to stay stro-"

Again, the nine-year-old was interrupted, but for once it wasn't by Nudge. We all heard the big metal door creak open, and seconds later light had poured into the dark room from the open door. We squinted against the harsh light we were so unused to seeing, and could make out the form of two large, hulking Erasers. They were laughing gruffly, sounding more like starting car motors than people laughing. I shivered. I hated their laughter. It always seemed to be aimed at someone else's pain.

The ugly pair left the door open behind them, so it was still light in the room. I could see they were carrying a dog crate the size of ours. They roughly threw it onto the floor in the row opposite of out row of cages.

"They told us to come back and get it in ten minutes, but I'm willing to bet it will only last another five." Said the first Eraser to the second, smirking.

"I bet it will only last two."

"You're on."

And they shuffled out of the room; still debating about how long the thing in the cage would last.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and I squinted them to look into the cage they had left. I knew I shouldn't be doing it: new experiments like us came in all the time. They never lasted long. And most of them were too gruesome to look at. But my natural sense of curiosity got the better of me, which I guess it also did with the others, who were all leaning as far forward as possible, eyes squinted.

I wish I hadn't seen.

In the cage, I could make out the figure of a boy maybe about my age. Possible older. It was hard to tell. He had brown shaggy hair, green eyes, a narrow face, and long limbs. So, what was so bad about him?

His skin. As far as I could tell, it had cracked open in pretty much every place imaginable. They weren't just normal scratches and scrapes. His skin was literally covered in deep, deep crevices that seemed to form patters along his entire body, covering every inch of it. Fresh and dried blood was covering almost every inch of his pale skin, leaving only a scarlet shell. All across his face blood mixed with sweat and tears were rolling down his cheeks, and a small puddle was forming on the floor of the cage. He was breathing heavily, eyes struggling to stay open, occasionally coughing up more blood onto the floor. There was only one expression on his face: pain.

I wanted to look away. I wanted to forget. But I couldn't. This boy looked so… normal. Apart from the bleeding crevices that seemed to form a shell of dried blood surrounding him. Most failed experiments looked unrecognizable: extra limbs, scales, 100 eyes, no neck, stuff like that. So why was this one so painful to look at?

Nudge made a small whimpering sound and looked away. I saw Fang reach over to Gazzy and do his best to cover the small boy's eyes, who I'm sure knew what he was looking at. I could tell by the expression on is face. Fang himself was quiet as usual, but his hands had curled up into fists at his side. He was angry, his jaw clamped shut and his black wings stiff-looking. Max looked furious. And sad. I didn't even know it was possible to look both of those at the same time, but she was doing it. Her and I were the only ones still looking at the boy. It was terrible.

Suddenly, with obvious difficulty, the boy in the cage lifted his head a little and focused his eyes. I think he saw us. For some reason I couldn't identify, his bloody figure seemed to relax ever so slightly. I had just gathered up the bravery to say something to the poor kid when a small smile spread across his mutilated face, and he spoke in a raspy, weak voice.

"You must be angels."

And then his breathing stopped and his eyes glazed over, leaving us alone, confused, and scared.

What else is new?

* * *

About a week passed since the death of the boy. As much as I wanted to forget what I had not only seen, but also heard, I just couldn't. I couldn't get the image of the dying boy with blood bursting from his skin out of my head. And every night, when I would fall asleep on the cold, hard floor, I would hear the same words, repeating over and over in my head.

_'You must be angels.'_

Maybe I wouldn't be so bothered by that statement if I actually knew what it meant. I didn't even know what angels were, and, as far as I knew, neither did the others. I found myself wondering how the boy knew what they were if we didn't. Had we grown up here like we had? Or had he lived a completely different life, and the whitecoats had somehow ruined it? I didn't know, and I didn't want to think about it. But, still…

Angels…

So, a week later, I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to know what the dying boy meant by that. The poor kid deserved to be understood, didn't he?

So I devised a plan: a very complex one that would take skill, perfect timing, sheer determination, and courage. It would be risky, yes, but it was worth it. The whole plan was slightly sketchy, but it had to be done.

I would ask Jeb.

That night, Jeb came into visit us, as he often did. We all perked up immediately, knowing that he would probably bring us a warm drink or something along those lines. We were freezing.

He opened the door a crack, peeked in to make sure we were alone, (if you don't count all the other mutants, that is), and slowly walked in, making sure to lock the door behind him. His eyes took a little longer than ours to adjust to the darkness, since we had the super-avian sight and all. Once they did, he tiptoed over to where our cages were lined up in the same order as always: Gazzy, Fang, Max, me, and Nudge. As usual, he crouched down in front of Max's cage, said a brief hello, and began to fish something out from his long, white lab-coat. But before he could begin his usual chat, I made the first move.

"Jeb, I have a question." I was a little annoyed to find my voice shaking slightly. Even if we didn't fully trust him, the last thing I wanted was for Jeb to think I was weak. He was always praising Max and occasionally Fang for their strength. I wanted him to praise me, too. I didn't know why. I just… _did._

His brown eyes swiveled in my direction, looking surprised. Normally we just let him talk. We didn't ask questions unless we absolutely needed to. "Of course, Iggy. What is it?"

"Well, uh, I was wondering…" I awkwardly begin to play with the torn piece of cloth that was supposedly my shirt. "…what an angel is?"

An odd silence settled over the room. Even the other experiments seemed to stop their moaning and gurgling and screaming. I felt the flock's eyes on me; probably surprised I had been brave enough to ask the question. Or surprised it was me who asked, and not Nudge. I'm sure they had all been wondering about the answer, too.

"Well, um, an angel is a, uh, a _spiritual_ being." Jeb started, looking uncertain. "They are supposed to be like messengers for God, I think. And they protect people."

Nudge, now fully intrigued, began to babble. "Ouuu, those sound cool! Are they, like, warriors? Do they fight people? What do they look like? I bet they-"

"_Well,"_ Jeb interrupted loudly. We all let out a relieved sigh; thankful Jeb had stopped that train before it got out of control. "No, they aren't supposed to be very violent. More gentle, I believe. Some think that they are the gatekeepers of heaven and collect the dying souls of people to bring them there." He adjusted his glasses. "As for what they look like, most people believe that they are very beautiful, as if they seem to glow. And, well," a small smile crept onto his face, "they also have wings. White wings."

My eyes went wide as everyone else exchanged glances. It was starting to all make sense… the dying souls, the wings…

"Of course, they're more of religious beings. Might not actually be real, like people or anything." He added hastily, seeing the excitement in our eyes. "They aren't like you guys at all. So… so don't get any ideas or anything." He seemed so fidgety about this he forgot to ask why I asked in the first place. Which was good, seeing I wasn't about to tell him about the dying boy who had mistaken us for angels.

As the night flew by, I was still thinking. So, the boy in the cage had seen our wings and thought we were angels, there to bring him up into heaven. I felt a little sorry for him. I hoped he met some real angels. Did mutants go to heaven? I didn't know, but I certainly thought they deserved to. I hoped that wherever the boy was right now, he had plenty of angels to keep him company. And I hoped he was happy, with all those angels.

We didn't say anymore on the matter until a few days later.

Jeb had told us, the night before _it_ happened, that something big was going to happen tomorrow. He didn't tell us exactly what it was, in fear of getting caught, but he had told us it was something good, not bad. Well, _there's_ a switch in the daily schedule for 'ya.

So, that night, after The Gasman and Nudge had fallen asleep, us three older kids decided to stay up and wait for _it _to _it_ was. It had been Max's idea to stay up, of course. And so far, I was not liking the plan. I mean, I know we were genetically altered avian Americans with super strength, agility, and senses, but we were still just nine-year-olds. Nine-year-olds with wings, but nine-year-olds never the less.

I opened my mouth wide to let out a long, overly dramatic yawn, just to get on Max's nerves. It worked, and she shot me an annoyed glare as Fang snickered. We sat in silence for a few more seconds. I was about to tell Max what I really thought of her genius plan when we heard footsteps outside of the door. Instantly, we all put our heads down on the floor and closed our eyes, pretending to be asleep. The surprise might not come if the whitecoats thought we were awake.

Two pairs of feet silently strode into the room. I could hear a cart rolling along behind them, the wheels squeaking noisily. Then the cart stopped near us, and there was a slight grunting noise as what I assumed to be an Eraser lifted whatever was in the cart.

"You… you can put it down over there." A nervous voice mumbled to the Eraser lifting the object. It was obviously a whitecoat, nervous about being alone in the dark with an Eraser.

The thing grunted in response and practically threw the object onto the floor directly across from Max's cage. Then the pair shuffled out of the room, leaving only silence and darkness in their path.

My eyes shot open and I sat up again, as did the other two. We all leaned in closer to the foreign object, trying our best to see what it was.

It was a small dog crate, the next size down from The Gasman's. And in it, I could see the shape of a small, sleeping baby. Or, it looked like it was sleeping. The baby, who looked about a year of age, had light skin, rosy cheeks, and a little bit of smooth, blond hair. To tell the truth, it was probably the cutest thing I had ever seen. Its soft, sleeping face looked to innocent and adorable, and its whole body seemed to glow. And, trust me, you won't catch me saying things like that too often. It was curled up, its small chest slowly rising and falling. I couldn't imagine how this baby could have slept through being thrown around like that.

A glint of white suddenly caught my eye, and I focused my attention on the baby's back. That's when I saw them: tiny, white, extremely fragile looking wings. _Wings!_

I shot Max a glance out of the corner of my eye. She gave me a side smile, and then turned to look at Fang, who was also giving us small, knowing smiles. Another one of us. Another one of us!

Fang had turned to silently wake up The Gasman, and I hurried to wake up Nudge. Across from us, the small child was still sleeping soundly, a very calm look on its face.

Nudge, who had finally responded to my low whispers, was stirring, "Hmm…mm… wha?"

"Wake up," I whispered again.

"Bu' I wanna sleep…" she slurred, already falling back to sleep.

"_Nudge! Baby! Wings! LOOK!_" I hissed, reaching our to shake the bars of her cage.

She seemed to understand, and immediately sat up straight, a smile plastered across her dark face. "REALLY!"

"Shh!"

She dropped her voice. "Really?"

I pointed to the new cage. The Gasman was already awake, and was now staring at the cage as if it held all the wonders of the universe. I guess Fang told him what it contained.

Not daring to talk, we all stared at the sleeping figure for a few minutes. Oh, my god, this thing was so _cute!_ The kid had long lashes, (like Gazzy), adorable pink cheeks, (like Gazzy), bleach blond hair, (like Gazzy), a perfect skin tone, (like Gazzy), and, and-

Come to think of it, this kid looked a lot like Gazzy, but I didn't have time to think about that right now. Because another thought had just occurred to me.

The baby's cage had been placed exactly where the dying boy's cage was a week ago. It was in that exact same spot. And as I thought of the dying boy, more thoughts came rushing to me.

_'As for what they look like, most people believe that they are very beautiful, as if they seem to glow. And, well, they also have wings. White wings.'_

Jeb's words from a few days ago played over in my head as I stared at the baby. It was perfect looking and adorable. The mere presence it of seemed to make it glow. It had white wings, like The Gasman. Only this baby was different from Gazzy. It seemed to have no visible flaws. Not on its soft-looking, sleeping face, not on its slender arms and legs, not even on its tiny wings.

It looked like a baby angel.

Just as I realized this, I also realized the others had been talking.

"She's so… so… so _cute!_" Nudge squealed as softly as she could, bouncing up in down on her butt. "Oh, I just wanna hug her!"

"How do you know it's a girl?" Max asked in a far-away voice, mesmerized by the small child.

"I just know." Nudge replied stubbornly, crossing her bruised arms over her chest.

"Ok, well…" Max looked like she was about to burst with excitement. "She's defiantly one of us. So," she looked around at all of us, who were replying to her excited look with excited looks of their own. All except for me. I was still staring at the baby, trying to wrap my head around it.

_Angel…_

"So, what should we name her?" Max asked in a whisper.

Gazzy, not really knowing what else to do, continued to stare at the little girl he resembled ever so much, beaming. He suddenly looked a lot older than three, staring at the small child with a knowing grin spread across his dirty face.

Fang's expression didn't change, like always, but he seemed to be thinking. His dark eyes darted from the girl to space, trying to come up with a decent name.

Max sat with her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.

Nudge was babbling away about how she looked like a Tiffany or a Crystal. She kept talking about how much she liked those names, and how pretty they were, and blah blah blah. I managed to drone her voice out. I didn't even know how she knew those were names. And, frankly, I didn't care.

As for me…

I saw the dying boy, with the glint of hope in his eyes as he saw us. All tension had left his bloody face, as if we held the answer to everything. Or, at least to death.

_Angel…_

I hard Jeb's words again. I heard them over and over. His description seemed to describe this girl perfectly.

_Angel…_

Then I saw the baby, still sleeping, looking so peaceful. Like a baby angel.

_Angel…_

"Angel."

Gazzy's blue eyes moved from the girl to me. Fang jumped slightly, then flinched. Max looked at me, her brown eyes wide with something I couldn't identify. Nudge stopped talking. I felt my bruised cheeks go red. Was I the only one who seemed to make the connections?

"It's perfect."

Max's voice was soft. She smiled a very knowing smile, and her eyes shown with a dim light. I smiled back. She knew what I was getting at.

"Yeah."

That was Fang. Considering he practically never said anything, the 'yeah' was more like a 'oh, my gosh, that's so perfect and I couldn't agree more and I love it'.

The Gasman's eyes grew wide. "Angel? That her name? Iddy name her Angel?"

"I love it! It's awesome!" Nudge squeaked again, and we had to 'shush' her again. Her voice dropped. "I mean, with that guy and the thing he said and what Jeb said and then her and, and-"

"Nudge?"

"Yeah, Iggy?"

"My ears are going to burst if you keep talking."

"…Sorry, Iggy."

After dealing with that matter, we all turned back to the newcomer, whose name was now Angel. Angel… I liked the name. It fit so well.

Max leaned forward in her cage as far as she could, and in a soft voice, whispered to Angel, "Your name is Angel. Welcome to the flock."

Her words were so soft I could hardly hear them. But I guess Angel did. The baby slowly began to stir. Her thick, blond eyelashes fluttered slightly. Very slowly, she opened her eyes, reveling big, bright blue ones. They were adorable, beautiful, and…

Angelic.

Then she gave us all a small smile, then closed her eyes and fell back to sleep.

Our Flock was complete.

**A/N: Ah, sorry for the lame ending. I had been deciding how to end it for a while, and couldn't think of anything else.**

**Ok, about the angel thingy. Max always compares them to dirty angels in need of a shower in the books, so I figured I'd give it a shot. I'm sorry if Jeb's definition of an angel was way off. I don't really have a religion, so I don't actually know the exact definition of angels. So I'm sorry if all you religious folks are pissed at me right now. NOT MY FAULT!**

**So, we beat my goal of 25 reviews! WOOP! In fact, we beat it by 11! Nice job, guys! Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I try to reply to them all, but sometimes I forget. So, if I haven't replied to you or you reviewed anomalously: THANK YOU! You have no idea how much I appreciate reviews. =)**

**Speaking of reviews, you know what to do! Please tell me what you thought of this chapter! I'm setting a long-term goal: by the end of the story, I'm hoping for over 100 reviews! There are going to be around 13 chapters. Think we can do it?**

**Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be called ****Angel's first word, Gazzy's first prank****. It's going to be funny!**

**~blue-eyed-cow**

**P.s. I have my own website now: .. The blog is currently down, but feel free to read my original story: Triple A. I'd love to hear what you guys think of it! Thanks!**


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